


Old Fashioned

by shieldivarius



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2014 [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Prompt: Old Fashioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Advent Gang strikes again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Fashioned

**Author's Note:**

> All of the Melinda/Natasha stories in this year's Femslash Yuletide are in the same universe and chronological unless stated otherwise!

"See, this?" Natasha made a gesture with her finger, twirling it to encompass the whole room, maybe the entire situation. "This has nothing to do with me."

Another day, another ridiculous crime tying back to the Advent Gang. Breaking and entering and grand theft wasn't _mischief_. It also wasn't a crime that should fall under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jurisdiction. Yet, here they were, with break-in files and statements from security guards scattered across the table.

Natasha was a _world-class spy_ for god's sake. Why was she here investigating this?

Because it was weird. Because it was weird and S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to take over and deal with weird shit, especially when it seemed like experimental tech they might be able to get their hands on was involved. That was really what this was about—getting the weird, experimental tech and taking it apart and repurposing it.

Which was fine, because eventually that would trickle down and Natasha would get the weird new tech, and she'd be able to play with it. In the field. Where she belonged.

Not stuck behind a desk bored out of her mind because she was doing a uniform's job.

"That theory's off the table," Hill said, rubbing her forehead. "We're no longer assuming someone is trying to teach you the meaning of Christmas."

Satisfied, Natasha eyed the plans in front of them. "If this had been me, I would've gone in here." She placed her finger on the architect's drawing in front of them. "Museum built into an old house. Outdoor cellar access. Those are easy to break into."

Hill leaned over. "That's the longest route up to where the crown was displayed."

"No barriers, though, except for the basement door and the cameras." Natasha traced the route with her finger. "And they didn't care about the cameras."

A diamond tiara had been stolen by Santa's elves. At least, the thieves had been dressed up as Santa's elves, and facial recognition had turned up no database results so they might as well have actually been elves.

Natasha suspected more weird tech, like their chimney jumping Santa. Tech that had distorted their faces just enough to trick S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facial recognition programs.

There was a team of people going through and manually comparing iris patterns now, but it would take forever to turn up those results without the computers to speed up the process. Especially with more than half of that department also on vacation.

She didn't understand how so many people had been allowed to take time off at the same time. It was no wonder they were no closer to catching the Advent Gang than they had been a couple of weeks ago. They'd probably have been better off leaving it to the uniforms.

Of course, she was probably blaming other people because she hadn't been able to make a dent in the case either.

"So say that's the access point," Hill said, a moment after she'd made a quick call for techs on the ground to check it out. "They grab the crown, they leave out the upper floor window. Drop three stories. Go, where?"

Natasha flicked the satellite image of the museum grounds onto the screen. Next to it, she replayed the footage of the culprits leaving. Two, immediately after the tiara had been lifted. Then the tape jumped, because the third had left more than half an hour later. None of them was obviously carrying a thing when they left.

"The third went, what did the report say?" Natasha referred back to it. "Stopped by the kitchen. Was there for longer than makes sense before leaving again." She tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk. "No cameras in the kitchen?"

Hill shook her head.

Natasha's mind raced. This would be the mischief aspect. This was where they were missing something. "Holiday traditions with crowns. Are there any?"

"I'll get Research on it."

 

It turned out, there was a holiday tradition involving a crown. Or at least, involving the wearing of a crown. The Advent Gang had either invented their own version of it or misinterpreted baking an  _object_  into a cake and  _wearing_ an unrelated crown... and had gone and baked the tiara right into a cake.

At least, that was all they'd been able to figure.

"At least it's probably not damaged," Melinda said, looking on as lab techs went about flaking cake away from the diamond crusted tiara hidden inside. 

Natasha raised her eyebrows at her. "How did they get it from the museum kitchen to a bakery? Why try to sell it?"

It was probably supposed to be bought by a particular person, at a particular time. Trafficked. A civilian had bought it instead, cut into it to serve at her holiday party and been, quite understandably, shocked.

S.H.I.E.L.D. and the NYPD had the bakery under investigation, but so far no one working there seemed involved.

"What do you think of fruit cake?" Melinda asked. 

Natasha frowned at her. 

"The kind soaked in alcohol."

"I suppose I can be converted," Natasha said. "As long as there's nothing baked into it that's not edible."

Melinda produced a box from her bag. The label stuck to the top of it read,  _Traditional Christmas Pudding_. "I don't think there's anything baked into this one," she said.

"You don't think?"

Melinda's hand found the small of her back, and Natasha glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Satisfied, she let Melinda nudge her from the room. 

"It's as likely there's something baked into this pudding as it was that there was a stolen crown in that woman's cake." Melinda all but snickered as she said it. 

"You owe me something if I bite into a bit of silver."

"Yes, Dear."

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
